Grief
by miawweasley
Summary: After Hopper dies, El stuggles with her resurfaced childhood memories. Her friends try their best to pull her out of this gloom that she seems to drown in. *STRANGER THINGS 3 SPOILERS*
1. Chapter 1

Head rested against her boyfriend's shoulder, she snuggled deeper into his side, and he responded by holding her tighter. It wasn't until Doctor Owens came up to them a few minutes later that they snapped out of their own world.

"Hey, Jane, I just need to check on your leg," he said softly as he waited for her to respond. She nodded her head.

As he lifted up her pantleg, you could see the concern that flickered over his features so fast you couldn't have recognized it if you weren't paying close attention. She was.

"Alright," he murmured as he turned it slightly to the side, and then the other side, checking it from different angles.

"Stitches— you'll need stitches for 2 months at the least," he said, gently resting her leg on the ledge of the ambulance. She groaned in reply.

"I know, I know, but it'll go by in a flash, make sure to schedule appointments." He smiled, and then rested his hand on her shoulder in a soft yet firm manner.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Jane." And then he walked away, leaving two very confused teenagers staring at the place where he once stood.

"My loss?" she muttered looking up at Mike. He merely shrugged, before telling her it was probably a misunderstanding.

Eleven nodded, looking up at the mall. She was met by the sight of Joyce clutching her youngest son as if her life depended on it. At this, she smiled.

Hopper.

"I'm going to go find my dad," she told Mike before slipping out from under the blanket.

Scanning her surroundings, she struggled to find Hopper. She remembered Joyce and Will, and looked over at them. Joyce's eyes met her, and Joyce's pain was too close to the surface for El to not understand what her face was telling her.

No...

"No!" was all that came out of her mouth before she hit the pavement crying. She heard Joyce and Mike scream her name before two sets of arms held her, and she leaned back into Mike, not dissimilar to the way she fell back onto him in the sauna.

"He's gone, baby, I'm so sorry," Joyce said as her own eyes started to water. El sobbed some more while Mike whispered into her hair.

"It's okay, sh, sh, it's okay."

That's the biggest lie she has ever heard.


	2. Chapter 2

El opened her eyes, squinting at the sun. She welcomed the split second of peace and happiness that enveloped her, because after that split second, everything would go back to normal. She would remember.

And the split second was over.

She groaned as she stumbled out of Jonathon's bed, the bed she had been staying in since—

She stubbed her toe.

"Shit!" she said, and she saw Will shoot his head up from across the hall.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Aren't I always?" she muttered, but loud enough for him to hear. He stood up and made his way to the door.

"I'm always here to talk if you need to-"

"I don't." Okay, it may have been harsh the way she cut him off. Scratch that, it was harsh. And she really would've cared if it weren't the circumstances that she was in.

She made her way to the bathroom and looked up at the mirror. She looked like shit, for a lack of better words. The dark circles under her eyes were clearly visible and got darker and bigger every single nightmare-filled night.

Sighing, she started the shower. When she got in, she turned it to it's hottest temperature. And then she scrubbed her skin. Hard. She felt dirty, and she had no idea why. Perhaps it was the memories from her childhood that had resurfaced. Or the bruises on her neck. Or the responsibility of everything that happened that weighed on her shoulders like bricks.

Perhaps.

She scrubbed harder.

/

The black silky dress that Nancy had given her a few months back was on her bed.

Black. Funerals. Hopper's funeral.

She couldn't breathe. She wanted to escape, so she ran out the door of her room and flung open the door of the bathroom, ignoring Will who was combing his hair. He was about to say something until she emptied what little she had in her stomach straight into the toilet.

She wiped her mouth with a hand towel and leaned against the shower ledge, eyes squeezed shut and heart beating fast.

"Are-" Will cut himself off this time. Of course she isn't okay. He knew that.

Before he could do anything, she stood up and smoothed out her hair.

"Don't tell your mom, please. She doesn't need another problem."

The fact that El thought she was a problem put a tear in his heart, but he kept quiet.

/

As she stepped out of the car, she saw the rest of her friends standing by Steve and Robin. Their frowns turned even bigger when they saw her exit the car, no doubt noting how bad her physical state was right now. She sighed. She didn't want anyone worrying about her. Clenching her fists at her sides, she waited for the Byers to exit the car before making their way over to them.

"Hey," Mike said softly, reaching for her hand. She pulled away and lowered her head, pretending she didn't see everyone's shocked faces.

/

People took turns giving eulogies. No one she recognized, meaning Hopper hadn't mentioned them. They probably weren't a big part of his life.

El wasn't crying, just kind of gazing into space. That is, until Joyce decided to mention the fact that Hopper was now with his daughter, Sarah.

It hit her, one of his daughters could be with him and the other could not.

And El, once again, could not breathe.

She made a noise— not dissimilar to the noise she made when she found out Hopper was dead —and fastly walked away, everyone's eyes on her.

She, for the second time that day, emptied her stomach contents behind a tree. She heard someone come up behind her and grab her hair, pulling it out of her face. She looked up, and she found a pair of dark brown eyes looking right back at her.

She allowed Mike to direct her back to their chairs, where everyone else was.

Max clutched her hand. El didn't pull away. She clutched right back.

/

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Jane."

People kept repeating this, coming up to where she was huddled with her friends. She just nodded and smiled, acted like everything was fine. How could anything be fine?

"I'm so sorry for your loss-"

"Stop!" she shouted at the woman in front of her.

"I get it—" here, she stood up, "you're all so fucking sorry for the fact that he died." Everyone looked on shocked.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, I don't even know who you are."

After standing still for a few seconds, shocked at her own words, she made a beeline for the door and ran through the grass, past everyone's cars, and down the main road.

She ran the 3 and a half miles to the Byers residence, not looking back once.


	3. Chapter 3

She had been awake for a good 3 hours, but she didn't feel like getting up.

She could if she wanted to, she just didn't feel like it.

It's been this way since Hopper's funeral 5 days ago. There was some form of a routine taking place in the Byers household. Jonathan wakes up, goes to work. Joyce wakes up, goes to wake up Will, and makes breakfast for Will and Eleven, and then proceeds to check if El is up. It's almost noon, but she hasn't ever been up that "early" for 5 days, so Joyce shakes her awake, informing her on breakfast. El shakes her off every single time, and pulls the covers up to her shoulders every. Single. Time.

Depression is the word Doctor Owens used for Eleven. Joyce, of course, already knew El had a case of depression, she just didn't know how to treat it, and she wasn't going to start El in therapy this close to Hopper's death. So she waited.

So, here was El, laying in bed (as she had been for the past 3 hours), staring at the wall, a blank expression written across her face. She told herself that she was okay, that something wasn't wrong with her. That's what she told herself, almost like a mantra in the back of her mind on repeat mode for the rest of eternity— almost like her mother's dream circle. Maybe she was going crazy, but she _wasn't _because—

_Nothing is wrong with me. Nothing is wrong with me. Nothing is wrong with me. Nothing is wrong..._

Yeah. She was fine. Not only did she say that to herself, but she said it to Mike, Will, Joyce, anyone who even came _close _to asking if she was okay. Because of course she was. She was okay.

Will popped his head in about an hour after 3:00.

"I'm going to Dustin's, you wanna come?" he asked softly. He was trying his hardest to not yell at her to snap the hell out of it— that he wanted the girl back who was like his sister. He wanted the one who understood him, and who he understood. But he didn't understand anything about her anymore.

She didn't answer, so he sighed and trudged back to the front door, shaking his head at his mom and making a face as if to say "it's no use." Joyce pursed her lips and watched her son ride his bike down the road, before going back to the dishes.

Will, sitting in Mike's basement was lost in thought about El.

"Will? Did you even hear any of that?" Lucas asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

"I- uh- no, sorry," he admitted, blushing a bit.

"What's wrong?" Max asked. Will visibly contemplated for a while, before deciding to tell them.

"I know we keep telling you El is fine, but- but she's just not..." he said, shaking his head.

"Well, I mean, of course she's upset, her _dad _just died," Max said. Will shook his head before speaking up.

"She's not upset, or sad, she's just... I don't even know."

"Depressed," Lucas supplied, looking concerned. Will nodded his head vigorously.

"That's it! I've heard of it, you know, books, shows and what not but I've never seen it on a person. She just looks so broken and just completely _done_ trying. Not just in simple things, but like she's done trying to live."

By the time Will finished, the rest of them seemed to carry the same amount of concern as Will.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Mike asked, seeming a bit hurt.

"I never realized the depth of it until a few days ago. After the funeral, she locked herself in her room and didn't come up until the next night. I figured she got it out of her system, but she hasn't eaten in _5 days, _and she hasn't left bed, either," Will said, looking at all their faces. Mike shot up.

"Woah, where are you going?" Lucas asked.

"To see her!" Mike said, getting two steps before Dustin pulled him back down.

"Dude, relax. You don't even know how to handle her," he said softly, guiding him back to the couch.

"Oh, and you do?" Mike spat at him, running a hand through his hair.

"Actually, yeah. I do," Dustin responding, raising his eyebrows. At their confused faces, he continued.

"I've spent years studying disorders and how to treat them. Maybe I can try talking to her," he offered.

"Or you could teach me and _I _could talk to her. She's _my_ _girlfriend, _man," Mike said, standing up once more.

"Mike, she's my- _our _friend too. Not just yours," Dustin, said, hurt that Mike didn't think of them as El's friend. Mike realized his mistake after he had said it.

"Yeah I know, I'm just—"

"Stressed. We get it," Dustin cut him off.

"So, Dustin, can you at least try to talk to her?" Will asked. He nodded softly, before turning back to his friends.

"See you guys," he said before making his way out the basement door and out to his bike. He hopped on and made the way to the oh-so-familiar household that had held the most trauma in all of Indiana.

Sighing, he knocked on the door, and it opened to Joyce's face.

"Wha- Dustin? I thought you were at Mike's-"

"Yeah, I- uh- I wanted to talk to El," he said softly, stepping through the doorway as she gestured for him to.

"Oh, she's in Jonathan's room," Joyce said quietly, furrowing her eyebrows. Dustin smiled and thanked her, before knocking on the door, despite it being opened several inches. There was no answer, so he opened the door slowly. He knew it was bad, but he didn't prepare himself for this.

El was laying on her side, facing the door, the covers around her waist. She had the biggest dark circles anyone had every seen and her hair was in a ponytail that had hair flying out everywhere. It was clear she hadn't showered in days. He glanced around and saw the untouched plates of food on the desk. The black dress was still on her from Hopper's funeral (Dustin's heart cracked a little with that last one) and she was staring at the wall. She looked— _awful, _and completely unaware to anyone or anything. She was staring at the pale wall next to the door, her lips parted slightly as she took shallow breaths through her extremely chapped lips.

"Hi El," he said in a soft voice, sitting down next to her form on the bed.

"If Joyce or Will or whoever sent you here to talk or some shit I'm_ fine, _and I don't want to talk," she said, tucking her face further into the pillow. Dustin didn't budge, he just set a hand on her shoulder.

"No one sent me, I came because I care about you. I'm here to talk if you need me, seriously. It will stay between us," he said. When she didn't respond, he continued.

"I don't know what you're going through, I can't say I do, just know my dad, he uh- he passed on a while ago. So you can tell me, if you want. No rush," he said to her. They sat in silence for 30 minutes before she sighed, flipping to her other side and shrugging of his shoulder. He responded by laying back on the foot of her bed, flipping to his side to face her. She still wasn't responding, but Dustin really wanted to help her, so he stayed there until night fell. He looked at the time and read that it was 7:30, but El was already sound asleep. He pulled an extra pillow and blanket down from the closet and settling down on the floor next to the bed.

He stayed awake for a few more hours before sleep swelt him off his feet. He slept through the night, waking up at 8:00 to the smell of bacon. He was confused at first before walking into the kitchen and seeing Will and Joyce digging into food.

"Hey, I didn't want to wake you last night, sorry. Do you want some breakfast?" Joyce spoke softly, kindly, and he couldn't say no to that.

"Sure, if you don't mind my intrusion," he responded. Joyce shook her head.

"You're like my son, too, I don't mind," she said, getting up to pile eggs onto his plate. He smiled and sat next to Will.

"Should we wake El?" he asked. Joyce sighed.

"She doesn't wake up for a while, no matter how hard I try. And it's no use, she refuses food," Joyce said, looking solemn. He nodded before eating his food, surrounded with a comfortable silence.

"I'm going to Mike's, are you gonna go home or go there?" Will asked after they all finished eating. Dustin thought before responding.

"Neither, I'm going to stay with El," he said before turning to Joyce, "if you don't mind." She smiled and told him it was fine, before he carried down the hallway. He placed his hand on El's shoulder and her eyes fluttered open, before she shut them again.

"Let's go for a walk, what do you say?" he offered. He wanted to break her pattern of sleeping in, and he the first productive thing that came to his mind was a walk.

"Don't feel like it," she said.

"El, I told you you could talk to me because of my dad-"

She cut him off with a laugh. It only lasted a couple seconds, and it was more like a scoff.

"What?" he said, seeing this as an opportunity for her to talk.

"It's just— you had a childhood," she said, falling silent, awaiting his response.

"I don't understand," he said after a moment or two.

"You had a childhood. I did not," she said.

"How does that have to do with..." he trailed off.

"I never told you guys about my youth— about the lab and Brenner. I told him everything. So on the days when I needed to talk to someone about it, I had him. I can't talk to you guys about it because you don't _understand_."

"But we can understand. Do you want to tell me?" Dustin asked, his tone soft once again.

She wasn't talking, so he settled into the queen sized bed next to her.

After a few hours, the time read 11:47, and he turned to look at El, but she was looking out the window past him.

"You can talk to me," he repeated. "I'll try my best to understand. Not about recent events, about your childhood. Why don't we start there?" he offered. She was silent for a few minutes, before opening up to speak. Dustin's hope rose once more.

"Your parents were in love. They were married." He nodded, and she continued.

"You were born into this world out of _love. _I wasn't. I always wondered who my father was, and it wasn't until later that I found out it was one of Brenner's men that created me. He raped my mother," she said. She was waiting for his response, but his face stayed blank. He was trying his best to hold it together. She continued.

"So, I was born out of hatred. I was born... out of rape. And I mean— I always wondered, and still do, if that's why my life was the way it was. They started beating me when I was 3. The torture began at 5. The rape began at 7. Maybe it's because of how I was born— like it was my destiny. He raped me twice a week until I escaped. I didn't know why he did it, but Papa always claimed it was for 'research,' and to see if 'it worked,' but I never knew what he was talking about. That is, until dad recovered my files from the lab. He told me I could do what I pleased what them, so I read them. They cut it out," she paused, finally meeting his eyes.

"C-cut _what _out, El?" he asked, fearing he might not like her answer.

"I can't have kids, because they _cut it out,_" she said, hoping he would understand. He did. His facade broke, and he gripped her hand.

"El, I'm so sorry-"

"Yeah, I know you are," she cut him off, her eyes going back to the window.

"Anyways, now that he's—" she swallowed hard, "—_dead, _all these memories are coming back to me and I can't shake them off because I have no one to talk to," she finished, meeting his eyes once more. He responded by gripping her hand tighter.

"You can talk to me, now, El," he said gently. "I'm here now, whatever you need." She smiled, and it was small and forced but he took it.

"How about you shower, and we take a walk?" he offered.

"You telling me I stink?" she said quietly. He grinned. Before getting up and ushering her off. He changed into the spare clothes he always carried in his backpack (which the rest of the party teased him for, but look at him now!) while she was showering, and he waited for her in the kitchen.

"We're going for a walk," he told Joyce, and she almost dropped her cup of water. She widened her eyes and smiled brightly before sitting down and opening her book.

El came in a few minutes later, still looking pretty bad, but looking better than Joyce had seen her in days. She made a mental note to thank Dustin once more later.

As her and Dustin walked down a trail by the lake by the Byer's house, they were both silent as they stared out at the water.

"It's beautiful," he said, breaking the silence. She only nodded.

"Do you want to talk some more?" he asked, pushing further. Her face darkening once more.

"I'll just give you my files," she responded. He shook his head.

"I'm asking to talk to _you, _El. It feels better sometimes to say it out loud," Dustin said. She shook her head.

"_I'll give you my files." _And they were silent once more.

But Dustin didn't mind, because she was better— even if only in the slightest, barely visibly way.

They continued walking before they ended up back at the Byer's house, Dustin saying goodbye to Joyce and (especially) El, before riding off to his house, deciding today was a good day as the air whistled through his curls.

Yeah, today was a good day.


	4. Chapter 4

Dustin was sitting on the rug in his room, surrounded by files and videotapes El had forced him to look at and now he just couldn't stop. He had read _hundreds _of her files explaining the gory details and he wondered how she went on everyday in there.

His mind kept replaying the first night he met her, when she tried to strip in front of them. It was a joke amongst them now, but Dustin had vomited twice just thinking about how he had laughed. She had been stripping in front of those lab people for _years _and she had no clue it was wrong until she has met them.

_She had no idea. _

He ran a hand through his tangled curls before letting out an exasperated sigh and reaching for her file of age 7.

Reading the words, his heart beat out of his chest.

_Day 14 since surgery. Eleven is still in pain and cannot perform simple tasks she used to excel at..._

Dustin read the first few paragraphs before stopping at the part he had yet to bring himself to read. He took a shaky breath and decided it was time to read it, as this is what El wanted him to do.

_Eleven strips herself of her hospital gown before Dr. Brenner slowly penetrates her vagina. The subject cries in pain-_

Dustin threw the file at the wall with a loud grunt, breathing heavily as the words he read burned into his mind. If that was difficult, he couldn't imagine what the rest was like. As he was breathing heavily into his hands, he heard his mother call out to him.

"Dusty, your friends are here!" he heard her exclaim.

"Shit!" he muttered to himself, closing his bedroom door behind him.

As his mother went back to sit down, he confronted his friends.

"Hey," he said simply. They raised their eyebrows.

"You look like hell," Max said, and he gave her the finger.

"Dude, we haven't seen you since you went to see El, what _happened?"_ Lucas asked as they shoved themselves inside his house. He dove for his bedroom door, blocking it off from them.

"You- uh- you can't go in there," he said awkwardly.

"Uh, yes we can," Max said, trying to reach for the knob. He snatched her wrist.

"I mean it, you can't." She widened her eyes before stepping back.

"Okay, what the hell Dustin?!" Lucas exclaimed. "What are you doing in there?"

"...Research."

"Bullshit, open the door," Mike said. As Lucas and Mike distracted Dustin with their arguments, Max found an opportunity and snuck her hand in and swung open the door. It was all fun and games until they saw the scattered files and pictures and the paused videotape of 5-year-old Eleven trying to lift a 300 lb weight on his T.V.

"Holy shit..." Max said, her voice quiet. Dustin tried to reach for the door but they all pushed past him.

"Hey! Stop!" he yelled, trying to hide everything.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mike asked angrily as Will went to pick up the discarded file Dustin had flung at the wall earlier. Dustin was quicker than lightning to snatch the file from his hands.

"Please, leave, she trusts me with this stuff, she doesn't want all of you reading it!" Dustin snapped. He didn't notice the way Max had already read half way through her year 3 file. Her eyes watered.

"_The subject had a concussion and 2 broken bones after Dr. Brenner punished her for not completing the simple task of lifting a 100 lb weight—" _Dustin snatched the file out of her hands, snapping it shut and cutting off Max's reading out loud.

"She was _3?" _Max asked, tears now freely falling from her eyes.

"That's not the worst of it..." Dustin muttered, and the party exploded.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell us!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What the hell happened to her?!"

"STOP!" Dustin cut them off. They fell quiet.

"She will tell you when she is ready to tell you," he stated, his voice now at his regular volume. Mike looked like he wanted to kill someone. He stormed off.

"Where are you going?" Dustin called after him, but by the time the rest of them made it to the doorway he was already down the block on his bike, speeding away.

"Well shit."

/

Mike knocked frantically on Ms. Byers door. She opened hurriedly.

"Mike, sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked, ushering him inside.

"I need to talk to El," he said impatiently, looking around the corner to Jonathan's room.

"Oh, yeah, okay," she responded. Mike waisted no time turning the corner and barging into the room. She didn't even flinch at the noise.

His heart _broke _at the sight of her propped up against the pillows, hair a mess, dark circles under her eyes. Mike's thoughts were going 100 miles an hour.

_Dustin said she was better..._

"Hey, El," he said, going over to tuck in next to her. When she didn't respond, he continued to talk.

"Dustin was reading your... files, and he wouldn't let the rest of us see them. Why not?" he asked softly. Her only response was to turn around and face the other direction. Mike sighed.

"El, why won't you talk to me?" he asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice (failing to, by the way).

"I can't," she said. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why not, babe?" he asked, knowing she was a sucker for pet names. "I won't judge you."

"It's not about that, Mike. It's about what you'll do once you find out," she said sharply, a tone Mike had never heard out of her.

"I don't understand," he said honestly. She turned to face him, staring him dead in the eye.

"A lot of shit went down in that lab. You have no. Idea."

A shiver was sent down his spine as he stared her in the eyes. Her honey orbs were full of unspoken pain and trauma and a look of fear that told him he didn't know a single _thing _about what happened to her.

"El, I just want to know so I can help you," he said, trying not to cry as he looked at her. She was staring off into space again and he sighed. He kicked off his shoes and snuggled into the pillow next to her, wrapping his arms around her in an attempt to comfort her. She was freezing despite the hot room and the dozens of blankets and pillows surrounding her. He hugged her tighter, but she didn't respond to his touch, just turned away from him to try to get his arms off of her. He reluctantly let go, but he didn't leave the room. He just stared at the back of her head as they lay there in silence for _hours _until darkness fell upon Hawkins.

"I'll tell you when I'm ready," she said simply befoee pulling the covers over her head. He squeezed her shoulder to show he supported her before gathering his stuff and leaving the house quietly.

/

"Will's right. She's just _broken_," Mike said to his friends. Max sighed.

"Well we have to do something," she said.

"She'll tell you when she's ready, don't push her," Dustin snapped, then mumbled an apology for his tone.

"Why can't you just show us everything and that way we'll know, we won't tell her though!" Max suggested. Dustin was quick to shake his head alongside Mike.

"She trusted me, guys, I'm not disobeying her wishes. She'll tell you when she's ready," said Dustin. Mike nodded in agreement, before Max turned on him.

"Aren't you concerned for _your girlfriend?" _she asked accusingly. Mike out his hands up.

"I already talked to her and she's not ready to tell the rest of us, so just respect that," he said calmly. Max sighed and fell back against the couch in defeat.

/

Dustin was back in his room, breathing deeply on his bed.

_In, out, in, out, in, out.._

He knew he had to read the files for El, and he was really trying. He glanced at the clock and it read 12:03 am. Not that late, so he had time to try and read it. He stared at the file in front of his for what he thought was a few minutes, but turned out to be _hours. _

"Shit," he whispered as the clock read 3:17 am.

"I have to do this. Do it for El," he repeated to himself. After 3 minutes of this mantra, he finally opened the file and began to read the part he couldn't before.

_Eleven strips herself of her hospital gown before Dr. Brenner slowly penetrates her. The subject cries in pain as Dr. Brenner pumps a total of 17 times before cumming inside the subject. The subject is crying the whole time. Dr. Brenner pulls out and orders the subject to get dressed. When she disobeys, Dr. Brenner slaps the subject across the cheek with his belt. The subject needs stitches (_and in the margin an extra note that says '_3 stitches'). The subject is bleeding down the legs and the bedsheets are in need of a change. Eleven responded to the experiment worse than Eight. Eight is rewarded with Eleven gets sent to the Sunflower room..._

_"_Sunflower room?" Dustin mutters to himself. That hadn't come up in previous files, and he had already read about Eight in El's files from when she was a baby to when she was 4. He continued to read despite his confusion.

_The subject is neglected food and water for 5 days before being sent back to the rainbow room. After she is recharged they take the subject to the tanks. Eleven questions Dr. Brenner and gets slapped once more (_in the margin: '_No stitches necessary')._

Dustin read through the rest of the files, setting the last one down at 8:13 am. He wasted no time hopping on his bike to talk with El right away.

After all, it took him long enough already.


End file.
